Left Behind
by Late2SGA
Summary: A rescue is hurriedly mounted when the wounded members of Sheppard's team return and there are only three... Takes place S3, before The Game. Team fic. The Team plus Weir, Lorne, Beckett.
1. Chapter 1

~ Left Behind ~

An Author's Note follows the chapter.

Word Count: 407

Characters: The Team, of course, plus Weir, Lorne, Beckett. Appearance by Chuck.

Disclaimer: 'Stargate Atlantis' and its characters are not mine. I would not have left them under the aegis of those whose interest lay elsewhere.

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

"Unscheduled off-world activation."

At Chuck's announcement Elizabeth Weir pushed back her desk chair and hustled across the bridge from her office to the Control Room. "How many teams are off-world?" she queried as she made her way to the balcony. There were at least two, she knew, and if this meant trouble, more likely than not, it would be with John Sheppard's team. The shield was raised. She noted the Gate detail was already forming a defensive perimeter. Her tense gaze followed the lights as each chevron engaged.

"Three - Colonel Sheppard's, and Captains Hale and Mercer," Chuck answered. "No one's due back for at least two-and-a-half hours." The wormhole roared into existence, then settled into a shimmering wall. Chuck looked down at his computer, then leaned in closer. "Receiving Morse Code... Dr. McKay's IDC."

McKay's identification number, but it was Teyla who spoke. _"Alanis! We ure comin- John! ...Nooo!"_

Elizabeth gripped the balcony rail, considered her options, and with a nod, ordered the shield to be lowered, then waited for whatever would follow Teyla's desperate words.

There were sounds of a scuffle - shouts, grunts, the thud of flesh pounding flesh in some sort of confrontation. Teyla suddenly erupted sidewise through the event horizon, sailing in an arc. She landed awkwardly, in a half-formed tuck-and-roll that only partly minimized her impact. The Marines held their positions; other Gate Room personnel rushed to aid Teyla while the unseen struggle continued. Elizabeth heard Chuck call for medical assistance as Rodney came barreling through the Gate, whirling his arms to maintain balance in a headlong charge. He ultimately lost his footing and fell in a belly-flop, lessened slightly by his outstretched hands. Ronon growled, blood splattered through the shimmer, then a moment of silence before one large Satedan boot emerged from the Puddle, heel first. The boot was sliding backwards, the materializing leg and back in a stance of resistance as Ronon was inexorably forced into Atlantis from the other side. The big man lowered both his arms and turned to scan the room, gripping his right wrist; blood ran between the fingers of his left hand and from his brow. The wormhole collapsed, leaving a false sense of quiet; chaos remained - Marines hurrying to help with the injured as the medics arrived.

"Call Major Lorne to the Gate Room," Elizabeth ordered over her shoulder - John Sheppard had not made it home.

Author's Note: This story was largely written a while ago, as in, a couple years. Life interfered, my muse went on vacation, and the story just sogged. Time after time I've picked up the threads to finish this piece and I've gotten nowhere. [After vacation my muse evidently went into hibernation and with the exceptions of electroshock therapy and dynamite, I've tried about everything to shake things up.] The next section of this tale is unwritten, the section after that is partially written, and the rest is actually completed.

I never wanted to post anything I had not finished, and I like to keep my tales short so they can be posted in one chapter and read in one sitting. However, I'm posting this short lead-in because I'm shamelessly soliciting feedback to see if there's interest and to see if said [hopefully positive] feedback will wake my muse. So, is anybody interested?

Feedback (or dynamite) would be appreciated.

Thanks for reading.


	2. Chapter 2

~ Left Behind ~

Author's Note: Considering some of the plot suggestions I received in PMs and reviews after posting Chapter 1, I'm afraid my own plot (which was already set) may seem awfully tame to people!

Another Author's Note follows the chapter.

Word Count, Chapter 2: 6455

Disclaimer: 'Stargate Atlantis' and its characters are not mine. I would not have left them under the aegis of those whose interest lay elsewhere.

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

 _Three_ _Hours_ _Earlier_ _._ "...just saying that we'd be able to- " Mckay's words were cut short after he walked out onto the platform in front of the planet's Gate and saw they were being confronted with an imposing sea of foliage. "We should have brought the Jumper." He turned toward his team leader and reiterated forcefully, "I told you we should have brought the Jumper!"

"Rodney, the question is not whether we should've brought a Jumper, the question is, where's the MALP?" John Sheppard stepped to the edge of the platform and studied the tall grasses.

The Gate shut down, allowing a complete view of the greenery surrounding them. By some inherent aspect of Ancient design the long grasses grew next to but never spilled onto the platform. The grey stone abruptly transitioned into green grass, but there were no bruised stalks to indicate the MALP had fallen off the platform...or had been taken away.

"Curious," Sheppard declared, staring across the open field. In the near-distance was a perimeter of trees, circling the meadow and the centered Gate. "McKay, is the signal still there?"

McKay aimed his hand scanner in all directions. "Still what the MALP sent back and still not clear." He pulled his laptop from the back of his tac vest and tapped a few keys. "And it's still not localized." He looked up from his screen. "It could be underground, but there should be a differential in strength."

"Are you reading anything else we should know about?" Sheppard took a couple stair steps down toward the grass.

"Like what?"

"Oh, creepy crawlies. Things that go bump in the night. Maybe the guys who took the MALP?"

McKay tapped a few more keys. "We are the only 'guys' here, except for some 'creepy crawlies' and larger critters." He peered into the grass. "Are you sure it isn't down there?"

Sheppard took the steps down to ground level. "Ronon." The big man came forward to take the lead, wading into chest-high stalks, using his large blade to cut any choking vines. In second place, following the path of tamped-down vegetation, Sheppard ordered, "Spread out and keep an eye out for the DHD."

"What?!" McKay froze while resettling his laptop at his back.

"John is correct. I have not seen the DHD." Teyla elaborated, "Perhaps it has been moved to sit farther from the Gate."

"I hope so or we'll be stuck here for hours," McKay sulked.

Ten minutes of searching located neither the MALP nor the DHD. The greenery was at a smothering height and thickness only near the platform. Beyond a certain point the foliage thinned and shortened to constitute only an irritation. The relief offered by the more navigable plantlife was obviated by the attention required to step around the mounds and stones underfoot.

"Much as I enjoy practicing the breast stroke," McKay snarked, "I'd still rather improve my swimming than break an ankle. Which is another reason we should have brought a Jumper." The complaint was directed at Sheppard, who was the closest. Ronon was barely visible in the tall grasses near the Gate platform. Teyla was staying in the shorter foliage, walking in a back-and-forth pattern, slowly heading away from the Gate.

Sheppard was tromping through greenery, slapping at bugs and bits that caught in his hair. He stopped short. "Speaking of Jumpers..." He moved aside thick stems and vines that had produced an effective camouflage. "Rodney, take a look at this."

McKay huffed his way over to answer the summons then sucked in his breath. "What's this doing here?" he exclaimed.

The disused Jumper was damaged, with pieces of the outer hull and drive pods missing and there was no rear hatch.

Sheppard called for Ronon and told him to look for Jumper wreckage. "Is this the signal source?" Sheppard asked quietly.

"Jumpers have their own signature and this is not it." McKay had his scanner out as he pulled himself into the Jumper's rear compartment. "There may still be power."

Sheppard surveyed the damage ~ no rear benches, no seats in the cockpit, pieces of the console missing, exposed wires hung from the overhead and the cargo netting was gone. For something that could have been sitting there for ten-thousand years, it was actually still in pretty good condition. "It's been stripped."

"What?"

"It's been stripped. The Jumper was abandoned and pieces were salvaged or scavenged."

"Well, all the good stuff's gone," McKay confirmed. "No crystals, electronics, recordings, computer, nothing."

"So, who took it, and where?" Sheppard asked.

"No obvious pieces I can see," Ronon announced upon his arrival. "There's nothing here," he continued, staring directly at McKay, "no Ancestor technology, no outpost."

McKay ignored the implied accusation and instead followed Sheppard, walking back along the trampled route toward thigh-high grass beyond the platform. Sheppard stumbled on uneven ground and reached down for the obstruction. "Rodney."

McKay waded forward to take the fragment. "Definitely Ancient." He glared at Ronon. "Proof some kind of Ancient facility was here, as the Database indicated," he enunciated loudly.

"The operative word is 'was'," Sheppard responded.

"There's lots of it, everywhere, half-buried in the ground," Ronon inserted. "What good is it? The building's destroyed."

"I thought Ancient stuff was pretty hardy," Sheppard commented. He used the toe of his boot to kick away some turf, then reached down for the fully unearthed piece. He ran a finger around the relatively smooth edge. "This was honed, to be a specific shape. It's not the result of some destructive event."

"John," Teyla called from over nearer the tree-line.

Closer to the woods and spreading back into the trees there were more and larger grass-covered mounds, more Ancient fragments, stones and rocks still standing beside ruined walls and overgrown timbers that had long since fallen into decay. Amid the trees the remains were better preserved than the pieces in the meadow that had been beaten down by the centuries.

"I have walked by the trees for nearly half the circle," Teyla said. "There are many such ruins." She pointed into the forest, at a mostly stone structure with the roof partially intact. Much of the framework of the building contained Ancient pieces.

"Sheppard." Ronon pointed to a small path in the grass that headed into the woods. "Animal." They followed tracks, which led to a narrow stream that had cut a sharp ravine. The trail crossed the space via a bridge made from the Jumper rear hatch.

"So," Sheppard reasoned, "not a scrap yard or dumping site."

"No. Oh, no. No no no no no." McKay ran over to what had been a small dwelling and fell to his knees by the still-standing entryway. He pulled on something that was half buried then dug furiously with his hands. He yanked the item from the dirt and held up a length of what looked like Jumper wire, from which dangled remnants of Ancient crystals. "Do you realize what happened? They disemboweled the Ancient complex to form this Neanderthal neighborhood!" He gestured to indicate the expanse of ruins. "Look at this!" he raged and snapped a crystal in half. "Useless junk! Ancient technology, broken up for this...crap!"

"You think this rubble is it?" Sheppard looked around doubtfully. "Outpost couldn't have been very big," he observed. "What about the signal? If the debris field is widely dispersed and half buried, could that account for the lack of localization?"

"I don't think so." McKay threw down the 'useless junk' and wiped his hands on his trousers. He pulled out his hand scanner. "There's still something else registering."

"Okay, kids, listen up." Sheppard rested his hands on the top of his P-90. "This mission has clearly gone off the rails. There's no DHD, but I don't relish sitting here until Atlantis dials us." He eyed the area, the tall, obscuring greenery near the Gate and the shorter, but still tall grasses near the trees. The scene was calm, with the occasional rustle and motion caused by breezes. "Place gives me the creepy crawlies. So, since we haven't found the MALP, we could expand our search for it, or, we could look for the source of the signal, if McKay here would pin it down."

"I can't pin it down." McKay was typing on his laptop. "I know there's something there, I just can't seem to..."

"McKay! Best guess. Is whatever-it-is worth pursuing and where do you think it is?"

"I just told you I can't-" McKay stopped mid-sentence and hurriedly resettled his laptop. He reached into a pocket for a mini screwdriver and took out the hand scanner again. He popped the top off the scanner and began to make adjustments with the screwdriver while pushing buttons. "There!" He turned left while watching the scanner screen, then turned to the right. "I can't tell how far, but I know it's in that direction," he pointed.

Sheppard grinned at his team. "Let's go earn our paycheck."

When they entered the forest the groundcover diminished. The canopy was thick so it was dark in the woods, but not difficult to navigate. The closeness of the trees made the space oppressive, the lights from their P-90s casting eerie shadows. The anticipatory sense was further heightened by the skitter of animals, the scrape and muffled sounds of covert movement.

They emerged from the dim shadows into wide open spaces and finally encountered growth that was only knee high. The view consisted of a panorama of endless rolling hills.

"Anything new on the signal?" Sheppard asked.

"Nothing," McKay answered. "How far are we going to go?"

"Depends on what we find at the top of the hill."

"We should have brought a Jumper."

"Rodney, we can't bring a Jumper every time. It's just grass."

"There's grass, and then there's grass," McKay groused.

There were no clouds in the sky. The temperature was comfortable, although trudging through the greenery and then up a slope took its toll on everyone's humor. At the top of the hill they took stock of what lay before them ~ more grassy hills.

Sheppard took a deep breath and slid his aviators to the top of his head. "Still nothing new?" McKay fiddled with the screwdriver and scanner and shook his head. "So, one mile or a hundred and we don't know what's out there." He turned to look in a complete circle. "I think I'll let Elizabeth call this one. We can come back in a Jumper, which I'm sure'll suit you, Rodney." He lowered his sunglasses to his nose, stopped, peered at the knoll across the way and lifted his glasses. He took out binoculars and looked again, with and without aviators. "Interesting."

"What?! What is it?" McKay demanded.

Sheppard handed over his sunglasses and field glasses. "What do you see?"

McKay performed the same actions. "There's something there." He handed both glasses to Teyla, who looked through them and handed them off to Ronon.

"Could be your abandoned outpost, Rodney," Sheppard commented. He checked his watch. "We'd better pick up the pace if we wanna have time to explore before we have to be back to request a pick-up." He set his aviators back on his nose and put away the binoculars before starting down the hill at a lope.

At the bottom of the hill the team stopped to catch breath and to take another look at their destination. Examining the site from a new angle and shorter distance produced more detail but what they were seeing was still not explainable.

"What's wrong with this picture," Sheppard remarked as he handed the binoculars and aviators to McKay.

Waving stems of green grass met blue sky atop the hill. Into this idyllic scene intruded unnatural matter, the corner of some manufactured structure. One vertical edge could be seen; how high the edge rose and how much of the base showed were inconstant. The sky came down over the wall, like a billowing curtain, but the curtain did not reach the ground. The effect was more like watching an old movie ~ the top of the hill, the sky, the grass ~ being projected onto a sheet, and one corner of the sheet was loose, allowing a glimpse of the building behind the curtain. The edge of concealment didn't have the clean line of fabric but a mist-like quality, reminiscent of a horror film visual effect, when fog slithered down stairs, creeping over each edge.

Ronon handed the ocular gear back to Sheppard and they all started up the rise, on alert in anticipation of what might appear from behind the blind. There were no tracks to follow and no sign of any traffic, but near the crest of the hill the groundcover was indistinct, as if clarity were distorted by double exposure; the teammates' footwear in places visually merged into grass.

The corner of the edifice, a sandstone-like brick construction, was more than two meters high at the point where it disappeared into the blurred border of sky. Looking along the side, upward, or across the front of the wall revealed the consistent vista of grass and sky and hills beyond.

Sheppard reached out and placed his palm on the stone. He patted the light-colored surface and slid his hand upward, until it vanished into the sky, such that a shifting, nebulous fringe divided blue and forearm. "Cloak?" he asked.

McKay tapped buttons on the scanner. "It's not reading like a cloak. In fact, it's not reading at all."

Sheppard raised his eyebrows in question. He shouldered his P-90 and carefully walked along the front of the wall until he dissolved into the openness of sky and grass-covered knolls.

"John!" Teyla called.

A hand re-emerged. "C'mon," Sheppard gestured.

From inside the veiled boundary they could only imagine the full scale of the structure. The edge they had seen was decorative, for the building was apparently circular, not angular, and the wall curved inward as it rose. The teammates walked along the perimeter until stone gave way to familiar Lantean materiel and architecture. They arrived at a very grand Ancient entryway.

"Let's see if there's power. Rodney, stay here," Sheppard ordered. "Teyla, with me," and he stepped to the other side of the double doors where there was a second door control. "Rodney."

Both men waved their hands over the controls. After a pause and a creak, Sheppard's panel began to move.

"C'mon, Rodney, concentrate," Sheppard urged. He walked back toward McKay's side just as the doors parted enough for the team to pass. Ronon added his strength to enlarge the opening. The lights went on when they crossed the threshold and the teammates found themselves in a hallway of Ancient design.

McKay gushed excitedly, "Even though there were no specifics in the Database, this outpost could house anything! There's obviously security, so this could even be a facility for ZedPMs!"

The hall extended to the left and right with nothing to indicate what lay in either direction. Almost directly across from the outer door stood another double entryway, although not as large as the one leading to the outside.

"Rodney," Sheppard gestured. The team stood in front of the doors as Sheppard and McKay waved their hands at the controls.

The door panels parted and the teammates stepped forward into sunshine reflecting off beige-colored stone. The city was a marvel of architecture and planning. Like an Escher drawing, honeycombs of dwellings and shops, and paths teeming with the bustle of human activity were entwined in complicated spirals, limited by the dome of concealment, and within the veiled space, every square centimeter was assigned a purpose.

There was a brush of air, an odd distortion in the stone, the scuff of sound, and a hum. The team never saw it coming.

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

Runner instinct had kicked in when Ronon first woke. Flat on his back he opened his eyes only after an interval of regulating his breathing and employing all his senses to determine no enemy was close. His inner clock told him at least thirty minutes had elapsed since his last conscious thought. At the edge of his vision, to the left, were Teyla's feet. The ceiling above him was recognizable as Lantean architecture. His holster and gun were missing. As were his knives. He rolled to his side and discovered a weakness that meant pushing to a sitting position required conscious exertion. He tapped Teyla's foot. "Teyla." She roused, shook her head to clear confusion, and attempted to sit up; her shoulders rose a few inches off the floor before she ceased the effort and lay back down. Ronon tapped her foot a second time. "Come on. You get McKay," he whispered.

Ronon waited until Teyla shifted to her knees before he moved unsteadily toward his team leader. "Sheppard." Ronon heard grumbling from McKay and Teyla's quiet 'shh'. "Sheppard. Get up." Ronon shook the man's shoulder. Sheppard's eyelids fluttered and he made an incoherent sound, as if he were too tired to stay awake. Ronon checked Sheppard's pulse, which was rapid, the colonel's breathing was uneven and there were four red marks on the side of his neck. Ronon looked to his teammates and raised a hand to feel the tenderness of his own skin. Teyla examined McKay's skin above his vest, ran a finger over her own neck, and met Ronon's gaze with an expression of grave concern. McKay was wild-eyed, his brow furrowed in fearful confusion.

Teyla stumbled to her feet, wobbling as she moved to the door. She waved her hand past the control panel; the door did not open. With faltering steps she crept along the wall, feeling for cabinets or openings. They were in a small room of Ancient design and there was only the one exit. "Rodney!" she hissed.

McKay pulled his attention from his own troubles and the insensible Sheppard. As he made to stand his entire body began to shake. Teyla hurried to him to provide support. "What's happening?! What's wrong with me?" he cried.

"Shhhh. Rodney, we are all esper'encing some weakness and diffi'ulties. Do no' panic." Teyla's words were meant to comfort; McKay instead appeared horrified. Teyla patted his shoulder and spoke slowly and clearly. "Can - you - open - the - door?"

With Teyla's assistance McKay rose awkwardly and headed for the Ancient interface. Given the kind of problem he could understand, he went to work on a solution.

Ronon continued to work on his own problem. He grabbed the colonel's chin and shook the man by the jaw. "Sheppard."

Eyelids slowly lifted, pulled upward by very highly arched brows. Sheppard looked like a wide-awake drunk. "Hey."

"Can you stand?" Ronon asked, knowing the answer.

Sheppard made a slight grin. "I'm no' s'anding?" he slurred.

McKay stepped back from the wall in agitation. He gestured sharply. "Bridging the crystals doesn't work. Maybe there's no power. Maybe the mechanism is broken. Maybe something's blocked. Who knows. Without any tools, I don't have a clue, and without my laptop, there's no way to find out!" He ignored Teyla's gesture for silence and turned away from the control panel. He looked over at Sheppard. "He might be able to do it..."

Ronon braced himself before reaching down to pull Sheppard upright, sliding his friend's right arm over his own shoulders while he wrapped his left arm around the colonel's waist. He carefully made his way to the door with his burden. Sheppard dragged his feet with each step but made the effort to carry some of his own weight. His head bobbed as he perused the room.

McKay sidled away from the door. While Ronon and Teyla held up their teammate, McKay grabbed Sheppard's right arm and waved the hand in front of the controls. "Oh, c'mon, work!" McKay tried again by grasping his friend's wrist and placing the hand directly on the control panel. "It could be an added security measure. This is one time he has to be at least p-partially aware to be able to express mentally what he wants."

Ronon turned slightly in order to grab Sheppard by both shoulders. "Sheppard." Ronon shook his friend. "Sheppard!"

John Sheppard acted like a man past exhaustion. He managed to force open his eyelids briefly. He shook his head to stay awake and lost balance within Ronon's hold before slapping his hand at the control panel on the wall. The door slid open.

Teyla peered into the hallway. "Whish way shoul' we go?"

Ronon felt no hesitation. He studied the floor outside the entryway, then lifted Sheppard in a fireman's carry and clumsily headed down the hall.

"Ro'ney!" Teyla whispered urgently. "We mus' go! Now!"

The scientist stood outside their holding room, examining the door frame and control panel. "I'm coming, I'm c-coming," he answered, then he hurried after Teyla, who had caught up with Ronon at the next closed door.

Ronon leaned down to set Sheppard's feet on the ground. He held the man's hand at the door panel. The colonel's eyes were once again closed and his chin rested against his chest.

"John, you mus' stay awake," Teyla encouraged. "We nee' your help. We ure in trouble. You mus' help."

Sheppard bounced his chin once and his breathing changed, but his eyes did not open.

Ronon shifted slightly. He slapped Sheppard's cheek. "Sheppard. Sheppard." Ronon slapped him again, harder. "Sheppard!"

McKay stepped forward, in the colonel's face, and hissed, "Wake up, Sheppard! That's an order! Wr-raith are c-coming!"

The colonel bobbed his head again and quietly 'mmm-ed'.

"Are you awake? Sheppard, think: open the d-door. Do it!" McKay held his friend's hand and waved it over the crystals.

The door roughly slid open. There were two more closed doors, two more times Sheppard had to be coaxed and coerced before the team found themselves back in the hallway where they had first stood, just within the outer wall. The door leading to outside and the opposing door that opened into the contained city were now closed.

With the means they'd applied at the previous doors they roused Sheppard enough to pass the final obstacle. Once through the outside door, Ronon set his teammate on his feet and propped him against the wall. He carefully gauged the minor tremors and weakness in his own hand, held at Sheppard's chest.

"Sheppard! Think: close the d-door! Come on!" McKay held the colonel's hand at the control panel. With threats and pleas he finally compelled the appropriate response; the large door closed in a halting, uneven motion. McKay removed the crystals and looked at Ronon. "I know they can f-force the d-doors and there's an-nother way out, b-but this might slow them d-down."

Ronon said nothing. McKay's speech was deteriorating and the man had suffered another seizure. Their team leader was basically unconscious ~ they were nearly to a point where nothing they could do would elicit a response. Ronon's gaze shifted to Teyla, who was foraging for fist-size stones and large sticks. Her usual agility was compromised by more than general weakness. He saw her make a misstep and crumple to her knees.

"What's sh-sh-she d-doing?" McKay wanted to know.

Ronon didn't answer. Their symptoms were worsening ~ they were running out of time. Ronon straightened and hoisted Sheppard once again over his shoulders. He husbanded the strength he consciously had to direct to his muscles in order to move. Two large steps and he passed through the veiled curtain.

The path they'd made earlier coming from the Gate was clearly marked. Ronon set a careful pace that took full advantage of his long stride on the decline. His teammates were struggling. Ronon heard the uneven steps and harsh breathing behind him but knew Teyla would make certain their speed was maintained.

"I know w-we have to hurry, b-b-but we do have a h-head s-start, y-you know," McKay wheezed.

"Ro'ney, save yur brea'. Jus' run."

When he started up the rise Ronon felt his leg muscles burn and identified the signs of an overall increasing weakness. Sheppard was an awkward load, unsettling his balance when Ronon slowed to climb the hill. A short cry behind him meant Teyla had fallen. Ronon moved on, confident McKay would help her to her feet. He heard more sounds of distress, and Teyla's voice, comforting and encouraging a man who had experienced another convulsive attack. Ronon did not stop nor look back. At the top of the hill he paused for breath.

Ronon needed rest. His legs shook and his arms ached. His endurance and strength, which he'd never given a second thought during his years as a Runner, were now in doubt. He needed to plan, to conserve. And to keep moving. The flat grasses offered no vantage point, but there would be danger in the trees. Ronon considered the most efficient attack would come within the forest. Or at the Gate. Sheppard moved and uttered a whisper Ronon didn't understand, but it shook him from his paralysis; he headed down the hill with his charge. His respite was too short for rest and his teammates had not caught up with him.

When he reached flat ground Ronon walked until he'd measured half the distance between the hill and the trees. He stopped and carefully laid Sheppard on the ground. Ronon kept his back to the hill and straightened to examine the wooded area. Behind him his teammates noisily approached.

McKay flopped down in the grass. "What is the p-point of h-h-hurrying if it's 'h-hurry up and w-wait'?!" he panted. "Atlant-tis won't m-miss us f-for hours! We h-have to find a p‑place t-to hide until th-they d-dial us!" he finished angrily with a glare.

"Ro'ney," Teyla interjected, "do you really belie'e we ca' hide fro' the peo'le who live on thi' worl'? Dey know their lan' mush bedd'r tha' we do," she reasoned.

"And we can't wait for Atlantis." Ronon was still studying the trees, but he held out his arm to show his trembling hand, an indication of his increasing loss of control. "We can't fight."

"W-What are you l-looking f-for?" McKay grumbled.

"The trap. They let us go." Ronon could feel McKay's gape of confusion but he kept a keen eye on the trees. "Whatever they're going to do, we have to be fast enough to get through the Gate before they can stop us."

"You th-think they're alr-ready th-there?"

Ronon turned away from the wooded area and looked steadily down at McKay. "Do something," he dictated.

"W-What do you expect m-me to d-do? There's no D-DHD!" McKay jumped to his feet in a rage. He made a show of patting his vest. "Let's s-see. I have a p-pressure b-bandage, a r-radio and a wr-r-ristwatch." He snapped his fingers. "I know. I'll b-build a s‑subspace t-transmitter! Anyone h-have any ch-chewing gum?"

Ronon maintained a bland expression in the face of McKay's furious sarcasm. The smaller man broke the deadlock.

McKay took a step to the side. "Leave m-m-me alone. I have t-to th-th-think." He stared into the distance at the trees, at the Gate he couldn't see, tall grass, an old Jumper. He suddenly dug into a vest pocket and opened his hand to reveal the crystals he'd filched from each door control. He looked up at the expectant faces. "Th-this prob-bably w-won't work, and I'll n-need help-p if y-you want i-it f-fast, if i-it w-works a-at all."

"Ro'ney, you c'n ma'e it wor'," Teyla encouraged.

"How long?" Ronon inquired.

"With T-T-Teyla's help-p-p, six or s-seven min-n-nutes."

Ronon nodded and reached down for Sheppard. His arm began to shake. He stood straight and clenched both fists. "Teyla." She came to help him and together they managed to drape their teamleader over Ronon's shoulders.

Ronon set out with an even, deliberate gait at a speed they could all easily sustain. As they drew nearer the woods Ronon slowed, then stopped at a place such that an attacker emerging from the trees would be fully exposed, allowing Teyla time to prepare an engagement with her fighting sticks and rocks. Ronon bent slightly to set Sheppard on his feet. "McKay. You take him." Ronon released his hold and turned toward Teyla.

McKay grabbed Sheppard by the biceps and leaned into him to keep the man standing. "Wh-what? Why! He's h-heavy!"

Over his shoulder Ronon replied, "He's the one they want," as he took a couple of the slim branches and big stones Teyla had been carrying. One of the sticks slipped from his grasp. Ronon retrieved it and looked up at Teyla's expression of comprehension ~ they could not make a lengthy stand. She gripped her own sticks and nodded at him.

"So?! Why c-can't y-you c-carry him?"

"Ro'ney, iz jus' to the Ga'e." Teyla helped McKay shift Sheppard into a position to be carried. "Woul' you rather ta'e the lead to face wha'ever we encoun'er in the woo's?"

Ronon took the lead. He saw nothing, but he had seen no signs at any time ~ not in the trees, not in the grass. His Runner instinct was on alert, warning him of some invisible threat. Like Sheppard, Ronon had felt an inner disquiet when they had first come through the woods. Did the people of the planet monitor the Gate? Had they known of the team's arrival all along? And did that mean they had a way of concealing themselves? Ronon recalled the furtive sound of movement in the meadow and trees.

Teyla was bringing up the rear. Behind Ronon McKay was complaining, muttering quietly, squandering his breath on comments about not having a Jumper. They were making good time, but Ronon could feel the loss of strength in his body with each step; he had to focus some of his attention just on walking.

They left the closeness of the trees and entered the clearing. Ronon's instinct had not changed ~ woods or open grasses, no signs anywhere, yet Ronon felt an unseen enemy.

McKay panted loudly and stopped. "I-I-I have t-to go to th-the J-Jumper, so y-you t-take him." He turned Sheppard over to Ronon's care and gave Teyla her orders. "G-Go get th-the cryst-t-tals. A-As man-n-ny pieces as y-you c-can find."

Ronon lowered Sheppard into the grass and followed McKay to the Jumper. "You said those crystals were useless junk."

McKay was already peering under the Jumper console. He pulled his head back out to address the remark. "I also s-s-said this p-probably w-w-won't work! Do y-y-you have a b-better i-i-dea?!" he glared before reaching under the console to pull out a tangle of wires. He continued to work with the wires while he spoke. "I have t-t-to pull the f-frame outside th-the housing and w-w-wire the m-matrix extern-n-ally in order t-to accom-m-m-modate the additional c-crystals in the a-a-array, and th-this will only w-w-work if all c-c-coordinate centers h-have no d-damage and if I-I can subst-t-titute or piggyb-b-back these door crystals t-to re-replace the D-D-DHD crystals that are t-too badly b-broken to b-be used. Once th-the w-wormhole i-i-is established, th-that's all we need. N-N-Now, go away. T-Take Sheppard to the s-s-steps. W-When the G-G-Gate opens, m-m-move. By the t-t-time you get to th-th-the P-Puddle, I'll h-have t-t-told Atlant-t-tis w-w-we're coming." He ducked under the console again.

Teyla arrived at the Jumper as Ronon was leaving. "This's ull I coul' fine." She bent down and opened her cupped hands on the cockpit floor to deposit a small pile of broken crystals.

McKay set aside the wire strands and pawed through the pieces. He picked up two fragments and wired them into the array. "F-F-Find duos th-that have th-the center in-in-intact. Y-You'll have t-t-to help hold th-th-this in p-p-position. I-It w-w-won't d-d-dial if th-the matrix orienta-ta-tion is n-n-not correct."

Ronon had waited to confirm the repair was proceeding before he went to retrieve Sheppard; he couldn't lift the smaller man over his shoulders. He dragged Sheppard to the steps and pulled his teammate one step at a time up to the platform level, where they could wait, beyond the reach of the kawoosh.

Ronon kept scanning the grass and the circle of trees beyond. The back of his neck tingled, the ever-present warning, but he saw nothing, heard nothing. Behind him the first chevron light locked, then the second, then the third. The Gate lights dimmed and the third chevron flickered, then became steady. The remaining chevrons locked and the wormhole bloomed. Ronon gripped Sheppard by the wrists and began to drag him toward the Gate.

Teyla came running from the Jumper. She stopped and looked back. "Ro'ney, hurry! Wha' ure you doin'?"

"D-Dots and d-d-dashes! N-Neverm-mind," McKay shouted, "j-just get Sh-Sh-Sheppard to the G-Gate! I'll b-be there in a m-m-minute! T-T-Tell Atlant-t-tis we're c-coming!"

Teyla keyed her radio as she ran to the steps, tripped at the top, and stumbled onto the platform. "Alan'is!" She reached down to help Ronon drag Sheppard. "We ure comin- John!"

Sheppard was suddenly snatched from her grip. From thin air two figures appeared, oddly concealed in flowing robes of transitioning grass-green and stone-grey colors such that only their eyes were truly visible. They held Sheppard by the ankles.

"Nooo!" Teyla launched herself at the nearest aggressor with a clumsy kick that missed any target. She plucked the sticks from the back of her waistband and entered a frantic battle against a larger adversary who had the advantage of partial obscurity.

Ronon dove for Sheppard, slid his hands under the colonel's shoulders and tried, with a lunge-and-yank, to pull his teammate free. His strength was not enough; the second figure maintained a strangle-hold on Sheppard's ankles. Ronon gauged the approximate location of the voluminous chameleon robe. He leap-frogged over Sheppard and grabbed fabric while throwing a punch directly at the unobscured eyes; his assailant went down. As he returned to thread his arms under Sheppard's armpits Ronon saw Teyla struggling against her captor, held by her left wrist and ankle, writhing and squirming as she was swung back and forth, then released to disappear into the Puddle. McKay arrived to ram Teyla's attacker from behind. The two went down in a flurry of movement, made unclear by the veiled effect of the robe.

With Sheppard pulled to his chest Ronon was hurriedly backing toward the Gate. They'd nearly made it when McKay's opponent latched onto the back of McKay's vest, and even with McKay's frenzied back-and-forth movements to dislodge the enemy, the skirmish ended when the robed figure put a foot to McKay's backside and kicked him through the Gate.

Ronon was jerked to a halt. Both figures had grabbed onto the colonel, who was being held like a rag doll in a tug-of-war. With Sheppard in their clutches Ronon couldn't throw himself and his charge backward through the Gate and he hadn't the strength to wrest his teammate from their grasp.

It was a standstill. Ronon's knees shook. The robed figures began to push against his shoulders to separate him from the colonel. One adversary inserted a forearm then used the elbow as a wedge. Ronon altered his posture to resist and tightened his hold on Sheppard; he would not let go. Ronon growled and swerved when a gloved hand made an inexpert swipe at his eye; a rough seam had caught his brow and he knew the skin had split. He was being backed into the shimmer. He head-butted the nearest figure as he began to dematerialize. The last thing Ronon knew was a decorative dagger jabbing his wrist as he entered limbo and Sheppard was wrenched from his arms.

Ronon withdrew his hands from the event horizon and clasped his right wrist to staunch the blood flow. He turned to look for Weir among the jostling crowd of Marines and Gate Room personnel. The Gate shut down, its absence enhancing the clatter of the arriving gurneys. Weir was by the balcony, fiercely monitoring the activity below. Urgency hardened Ronon's voice. "We have to go back. _Now_. They have Sheppard." He swayed and dropped to the floor, surrounded by fussing medical staff.

McKay lacked strength to shift to a sitting position. He lay on his stomach, braced on trembling forearms. He frantically addressed Weir as she hurried down the main stairs. "We're w-wasting t-time!" he shouted. "D-D-Dial the G-Gate!" He yelped as someone tried to draw him to his feet near a waiting gurney.

Major Lorne came rushing up the ramp into the Gate Room. He took only a moment to eye the disorder of the busy crowd. "Colonel Sheppard?" He directed the question at Weir, who shook her head lightly and motioned him toward her.

Teyla lay on a gurney. She raised a shaking hand. "Maj'r, we mus' g' beck fer Zhohn." Her arm dropped heavily. Lorne tucked her hand at her side and went to stand with Weir.

"Carson, what's wrong with them?" Elizabeth asked when the doctor finished examining Ronon.

"I'd say they've all been drugged. I can be more specific after I have a tox screen. And there's something else. They all have a small mark on the neck. Very distinctive. I'll know more once I have them under the scanner." Beckett gestured for his staff to leave with Teyla and Rodney on gurneys and he waved over other personnel to help place Ronon on the last gurney.

Author's Note: The rest of the story is complete (has been for a long while) except I'll need to do some proofing to make sure what I've written recently will mesh with what I wrote long ago. My usual strategy has always been to post the whole story in one [short] chapter, but this story is more than two times longer than any of my previous tales, so maybe breaking it into separate chapters is a good idea. [From comments I've received, I understand some people prefer this method as it increases anticipation. Personally, it would drive me nuts.] So, four chapters - teaser, set up, solution, tag. The remaining chapters will be posted this month.

A reference was made to M.C. Escher, a Dutch artist. If you don't know the name, you'll still probably recognize his work.

Thanks for reading (and feedback is always appreciated!).


	3. Chapter 3

~ Left Behind ~

An Author's Note follows the chapter.

Word Count, Chapter 3: 3543

Disclaimer: 'Stargate Atlantis' and its characters are not mine. I would not have left them under the aegis of those whose interest lay elsewhere.

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

From a corner of the infirmary Elizabeth and Lorne watched and waited. Carson Beckett had acknowledged their arrival with a short nod and a quick return to the work at hand. Teyla appeared to be disoriented and groggy. Rodney's vocal agitation was interrupted when he suddenly fell silent, his eyes rolled back and he violently trembled. Ronon seemed the least affected; he had strongly resisted any care for his wrist while loudly insisting he needed to leave to go after Sheppard. A quiet word from Beckett and a calming hand on the big man's shoulder and Ronon eventually had settled down enough to be tended.

Finally, with his patients under the care of his staff, the doctor walked over to the duo in the corner to give his report. "The scanners certainly speed up the process and remove most of the guesswork." Beckett let out a relieved sigh. "We're lucky; there are no serious physical injuries and they'll all be fine. Teyla is bruised, shoulder and hip from the fall. Rodney bruised one elbow and both knees, rather badly; he'll be limping for a long while. He hurt his hand, a painful sprain. Ronon's wrist requires surgery. The blade missed tendon and bone but there's minor muscle damage." He turned to observe that the three teammates were being settled on beds and moved to a quiet area in the complex. He spoke again in a speculative tone. "There's very little drug remaining in their systems. The broader symptoms of drugged behavior are due to disrupted neural activity. It feels a bit like being drunk. Teyla has slurred speech, Rodney a stutter. Plus they're all experiencing spasms, like a palsy, and their motor coordination is compromised. The effects are wearing off, but there are still substantial changes in their brain chemistry."

"Wraith stunners?" Lorne suggested.

Beckett shook his head. "The effect is too long lasting. And the device would have to make contact or would have some kind of discharge that leaves that mark on their necks, like sunburn." He turned back to his listeners. "And I don't think the purpose of the device is to incapacitate or render the subject unconscious. The drug would do that ~ make them, let's say, 'controllable'."

"For interrogation purposes?" Lorne inquired urgently.

"Not 'controllable' in that way." The doctor clarified, "They wouldn't be responsive to questioning. They would be semi-conscious, or, more like sleep-walking," he further explained.

Elizabeth entered the conversation. "May we talk to them?"

Beckett sighed. "I'm giving them fluids because they're slightly dehydrated, along with light pain medication and vitamins." He looked at Elizabeth, Lorne, then Elizabeth. "They need rest and time for their bodies to do the work. Don't take too long."

"We just need to ask a few questions, Doc," Lorne assured.

The Scot smiled. "Ye'll have a fight on yer hands with Ronon. I'm keeping them for observation, but he wants to join ye."

The major tapped Beckett on the arm, then went to stand at the foot of Teyla's bed. Ronon's bed was to the right, McKay's to the left. They were all half-reclining and waiting to tell their stories. "What happened?"

Rodney snorted. "What h-happened?! I'll t-t-tell you what h-happened! We were a-ambushed and they t-took Sh-Sheppard!"

Lorne's gaze sharpened. "I thought the MALP showed no inhabitants at the outpost. Who are 'they'? Ancient descendants?"

"No," McKay shook his head, "j-just squatters. If they h-had the gene th-th-they wouldn't need Sh-Sh-Sheppard. And it's not an-an-an Ancient outp-p-post anymore, it's m-more like an ant-t-t-hill in overd-d-drive," McKay groused.

"What do you mean, Rodney?" Elizabeth asked.

"Those idiots d-d-dismantled everyth-thing!" Rodney bellowed. "We c-could have had ac-ac-ac-cess to all k-kinds of T-Tech, but those f-f-fools took it ap-p-part and used the p-pieces t-t-to–"

Ronon interrupted impatiently, "We don't have time." He glared, his expression emphasized by the bandage over the cut on his eyebrow. He suddenly tensed and looked down at his hands, resting on his thighs. He spread his fingers wide, then made fists until the tremors stopped. He re-focused his attention on Lorne and delivered his information in clipped, short tones. "Gate's in a close area, a clearing in the woods. Path's obvious, overgrown most of the way. City's about five kilometers, a straight shot coming out of the Gate."

Teyla spoke, enunciating each word slowly and clearly. "It is a large configuration, but not as large as Atlan'is. And as Ro'ney said, they have altered it. Now there is far more than Ances'or architecture, and it is…very crowded."

"What sh-she m-means," Rodney added testily, "is th-there are p-probably fifty th-thousand people in that b-beehive and those intellectual in-insects b-built their city by d-d-deconstructing th-the original Ancient b-buildings." He threw his arm up in a dismissing gesture, then gasped and cradled his hand at his chest.

"Can we use Jumpers?" Lorne wanted to know.

"You'll have t-to," Rodney said curtly. "There's no D-DHD."

"How'd you make it back?" Lorne queried intensely.

"There's broken T-Tech everywhere. Including a d-dilapidated Jumper." Lorne's eyebrows rose. "The oafs don't know w-w-what they have," Rodney mourned. "I j-jury-rigged the Jumper DHD."

"Okay, Jumpers. And then what?" Lorne encouraged.

"Go slow, at first," Ronon counseled. "Out of the clearing, over the trees, then it's good. Forest opens into grassland."

"What are we walking into?"

"Hills. Natural defenses. Limited weapons. Concealment. They watch the Gate, even though we didn't see anyone. Their guards have some kind of adjustable camouflage."

"I hate to r-rain on your l-little military parade," Rodney inserted tersely, "but it m-may not be as easy as you th-think to find Sh-Sheppard. The MALP showed us n-nothing. Get it? No-thing. We d-didn't have any idea there was a p-population until we op-pened those doors. And even when w-we could s-see it, the out-t-side w-wall didn't register on any s-screen. S-Something interfered, a c-counter-f-field."

Lorne took a moment to digest the information. "We may have to do this the old-fashioned way," he considered.

"It's possible, once you're p-past the Ancient wall, the J-Jumper sensors could work. P-P-Probably. Maybe. And th-then it would be easy t-to locate Sh-Sheppard's transmitter," Rodney offered. "Th-th-the counterfield should r-recognize a Jumper."

"Where would they hold Colonel Sheppard?"

"Perhaps where we were all held," Teyla proposed. "In the Ances'or section. There is very little lef' intac' excep' the wall."

Lorne gestured at Ronon. "That mark on your neck. Is that how they took you? What was the weapon?"

Teyla felt her neck. "We do nod know. When we woke the mar's were there. We have no mem'ry, only a feeling or a dream of voices we heard while we were asleep. John did no' fully wake, but he could open the doors. We were almos' to the Gate when they…appeared. They pushed us through the Gate and made us leave John behin'."

"I should go with you," Ronon pressed.

Elizabeth stayed in the background as Lorne responded with a steady look at the big man. He let his gaze wander from the drip bag, down the tubing, at the slack fist and finally, to the immobilized and bandaged wrist. "Not this time, Ronon." A small smile briefly lifted the corner of Lorne's mouth. "Your job now is the hard one ~ to wait and trust us to bring him back."

"See if you can find my laptop!" Rodney shouted as the major departed. "And our w-weapons! And the MALP, although it's p-p-probably a lawnmower by n-now," he grumbled.

Elizabeth nodded to the three, then hurried to catch up with Lorne. "Major," she hailed as she matched his pace, "if this is about the gene, do you think you should be the one to lead the rescue? If something went wrong, we'd have to rescue you, too."

"Yes, ma'am." Lorne gave a curt nod. "I've considered that."

What he meant, Elizabeth thought, was he'd considered it and disregarded it. She stopped walking in order to face him directly. "Major, if we lose you, my two most senior military officers will be missing, in a possible hostage situation. I can't lose you both." There was steel in her voice.

Lorne held her gaze, as if gauging how far he could push. "I'll contact Major Clift; he'll lead on-site. Gene-therapy pilots, who won't leave the Jumpers, and non-gene troops." A muscle twitched in his jaw. "Looks like I'll be following my own orders ~ wait and do nothing." He reached for his earbud. "Excuse me." He turned away, then took off jogging.

Elizabeth walked briskly to her office, where she knew there were mountains of work to do and where she knew she would accomplish absolutely nothing ~ nothing but wait.

Eleven minutes later the Gate activated. Elizabeth quickly left her desk to take a position on the balcony. She watched the kawoosh retract, and then the first Jumper lowered into position in front of the Puddle. Major Clift's brief communication was to tell her they would make contact in twenty-minute intervals.

"Bring him home, Major."

"We will, ma'am."

The little ship disappeared in the shimmer, then the second Jumper dropped into place momentarily before passing through the event horizon. The Gate shut down.

"Be safe," Elizabeth whispered. She was still standing on the balcony when Lorne joined her.

"They're going in cloaked," he informed her quietly, "armed with stunners in addition to standard gear. If we're lucky we'll be in and out before anyone knows it. Clift's a good man. Captain Ito's job is to guard the Gate and keep it open, once Rescue One tells her they have the colonel. Even if the sensors won't work, she has an eye for detail. If the locals are monitoring the Gate, she'll know it. And she'll handle it. She's a good pilot."

Elizabeth nodded, not really hearing the words. She glanced at her watch and became aware of a preternatural stillness in the Gate Room. She looked around the space, which was more crowded than usual with people milling about, personnel who had to be aware that John Sheppard was missing, even if they were unaware of the details; the anxiety had an almost physical presence.

Minutes crawled by silently. The suddenness of the stargate activating was thunderous after the previous unusual quiet. Marines snapped into their defensive positions.

"Receiving Captain Ito's IDC," Chuck intoned.

"Atlantis, we are in play," a female voice declared.

Lorne calmly ordered, "Captain, report," while Elizabeth realized she was holding her breath as she awaited the reply.

"Sir, Rescue One's sensors do function beyond the Ancient perimeter; they located the colonel's transmitter. It's a ground game now ~ teams on the way, Lieutenant Helms providing intel from the air. Rescue Two's sensors still don't register anything even from this height, but we can see the clearing and surroundings. The derelict Jumper's got company, plus there's activity at the Gate; they know something's up."

"Try to keep them from learning what 'something' is."

"Yes, sir. Contact in twenty minutes. Ito out."

The Gate shut down, leaving an eerie calm. No one moved. Elizabeth let her gaze wander around the Gate Room. There were even more people present than earlier, people sitting on the main steps, standing in hallways, talking in hushed voices.

"Is it as hard as you led Ronon to believe?" Elizabeth asked.

"Ma'am?" Lorne questioned, still staring at the Gate.

"To be the one left behind to do nothing."

The major tensed, then exhaled deeply. "You have no idea."

Elizabeth allowed herself a small smile. She crossed her arms. "Oh, I think I have some idea."

Lorne turned and eyed her steadily. "Yes, ma'am." He maintained his gaze a moment before returning to his Gate vigil.

"What about the other teams?" Elizabeth needed to know.

"Chuck managed to contact them while we were in the infirmary. They can wait; they're both on routine missions. Mercer's picking up more grain and Hale's accompanying a med unit to administer aid after a bad flood."

Elizabeth checked her watch again. John Sheppard had been missing for ninety-two minutes. She tried not to think of what could happen in that amount of time. She continued to stare at the stargate, willing it to activate. She checked her watch again. Thirteen minutes to go. There was no sense in trying to work; she wouldn't be able to concentrate. Finally she took a cleansing breath and unfolded her arms. She needed busywork. "Major, I'm going to make tea. Would you like a cup?"'

"Uh, yes, ma'am, that would be nice."

Elizabeth left the balcony with a determined stride and entered her office. She removed a small electric kettle from her desk drawer; herbal tea was one of her treasures, a daily interlude she allowed herself. While the water heated she contacted the infirmary for an update on the teammates' conditions; the three were improving physically but were increasingly agitated about being left in the dark regarding the rescue mission. Doing nothing was, indeed, a very difficult task. She imparted the news that the sensors had located Colonel Sheppard, so it was simply a matter of time before he was back in the city. After she signed off she studied her hands, clasped on the desk in front of her. Treaty negotiation was a stressful job, but nothing like being the leader of the Atlantis Expedition. These were her people. It was personal.

The sound of the first chevron locking brought Elizabeth out of her reverie. She glanced at her watch, astonished at the time, as she hurried through the Control Room and to the balcony.

"Captain Ito's IDC," Chuck stated.

"Scheduled update," Ito began.

"Go ahead, Captain," Lorne answered.

"Sir, they expect to reach the colonel soon and we have no reason to believe they've been detected. There's increasing activity near the Gate, however."

"Are the locals trying to interfere?" Lorne inquired.

"I don't know, sir," the captain replied, "but they have to know something's going down because of Gate activity, and if it's not going down here, they'll connect it to the colonel. I've informed the major things may heat up for him."

"Understood, Captain."

"Yes, sir. Ito out."

Elizabeth returned to her office, her previous interest in tea long gone. She re-heated the lukewarm water and while the tea steeped, she radioed Beckett to relay the latest news and received word that the patients were anxious but improved after the prior update. Elizabeth rechecked her watch; six minutes down, fourteen to go. As she strode by Chuck's desk, carrying the steaming mugs, she mentally reviewed the previous times she'd had to wait out an unknown situation offworld. She handed one mug to Lorne. The Gate activated before either took a sip.

"It's Captain Ito," Chuck confirmed.

"Sit-rep, Captain," Lorne demanded.

"Sir, the colonel has been liberated. ETA at the Gate sixteen minutes. Request a med team in the Jumper Bay; retreat to Rescue One is not without incident."

"Copy that." Lorne gestured at Chuck to contact Medical.

"Sir, our presence at the Gate is still undetected but we have a possible situation here."

"Keep it contained, Captain."

"Yes, sir. Signing off. Comm channel will be left open to keep the wormhole active."

Elizabeth strained to hear the sounds of activity on the Jumper and tried to assign actions to the sounds. She glanced at the major, who stood still, staring at the Gate; she knew he didn't have to guess at the meaning of the sounds. The vocal exchange indicated more locals had arrived, carrying various unknown devices ~ something that could bring down a Jumper when it decloaked in order to pass through the Gate? Or something to destroy the Gate before the rescue was accomplished? The captain was concerned about the timing of Rescue One and whatever the locals were up to and how soon they'd be able to do it. Activity stopped, then Ito announced, "Atlantis, Major Clift reports extraction is complete. Colonel Sheppard is aboard Rescue One. ETA Atlantis seven minutes. I repeat, ETA seven minutes."

In the background the conversation continued. For Elizabeth it was like listening to a radio show and trying to envision the scene she could only hear. _"What do you have, Burns?" "Captain, we need a closer look. I count eight more." "Okay, Lieutenant, closer look coming up… They're all at the Jumper?" "Looks like it. Ma'am, could they fire a drone or shut down the Gate with the Jumper's DHD?" "Not on my watch."_ There was a pause, then Captain Ito continued, "Atlantis, Rescue One is exiting the Ancient quarter. ETA Atlantis four minutes."

 _"Burns, I'm going in closer. Open the hatch. Can you get a clear shot? Stun only. I repeat, stun only. We do not want to alert others to our presence."_ Elizabeth listened closely and barely heard the whisper of the Jumper hatch. There was a long silence, presumably the Jumper had lowered for the lieutenant to find his targets. Still nothing. Hand signals? Then the sound of the Jumper hatch again, closing this time, Elizabeth assumed.

Captain Ito addressed the major. "Sir, permission to blow the grounded Jumper. It may have a cache of drones. I can clear the target of locals first."

"Do what needs to be done, Captain."

"Yes, sir." _"De-cloak,_ _Lieutenant_ _._ _This is going to be close."_ The muffled sound of an explosion echoed in the Gate Room ~ _"Hoo-wee! That cleared the deck! Nice shootin', ma'am. Look at that one run!"_ ~ then a second, much louder explosion. "Atlantis, downed Jumper is blown. Rescue One is on the way."

Seconds later the Puddle rippled and a Jumper appeared. After only moments in the Gate Room it began the ascent to the Jumper Bay. One down, one to go, Elizabeth counted silently.

"Rescue One is here, Captain. Come home," Lorne gently ordered. Elizabeth wondered how deep his calm really went.

"Copy that, Atlantis. Rescue Two is coming home."

Another interval of a few seconds and the Jumper appeared, immediately followed by the shutdown of the Gate. Elizabeth closed her eyes briefly and made the effort to release the hold she had on the railing. She took a steadying breath and walked over to place her mug on the corner of Chuck's desk, where she saw the other untouched mug of tepid tea; Lorne had left at a run before the second ship had fully crossed the event horizon.

Elizabeth gave Chuck a pat on the back. She had her foot on the first stair to the Jumper Bay when she became aware there was a surcease of silence. People were back at work, talking, even laughing, as if they were all suddenly able to move again.

At the Jumper Bay entrance Elizabeth stood aside to allow Carson Beckett and his staff to pass with the gurney. John Sheppard looked small and frail, his lids sunken in dark sockets. His pale skin contrasted with the unruly dark mop atop his head, and that somehow seemed frail, too. His jaw was pink and Elizabeth thought she saw several marks on his neck. Over by the Jumpers Lorne stood with Clift and Ito, his gaze following the gurney down the hallway ~ and he didn't look calm at all.

Elizabeth observed the solemn faces of the men waiting at the Jumpers. Like the stillness she'd noted in the Gate Room, animation returned suddenly when the gurney rounded the corner and Colonel Sheppard was no longer in sight. A light-hearted kind of one-upmanship began. Several members of the rescue team were injured. Most had cuts and bruises Elizabeth associated with bare-knuckle brawls, two had serious injuries to limbs and required assistance just to stand, and three Marines came stumbling down the Jumper ramp with a 'drunken' instability. Each of the injured insisted they had a lesser need for a gurney than the others and the stand-off was only settled when Lorne stepped in and assigned the three 'drunks' to sit on one gurney, and the two with the most serious injuries to take the other. They were all ordered to the infirmary for check-ups, regardless.

"The colonel will be okay, won't he, ma'am?"

Elizabeth recognized the voice of Lieutenant Burns, who was waiting in the second Jumper, out of the way. "I think he will be," she smiled gently. "You all did a great job."

Her comment was taken as an assurance. The joking began again, and the medics quickly moved to usher the entire group, on foot and on gurneys, down the halls to the infirmary.

As she started her own journey to the infirmary Elizabeth heard Lorne tell Major Clift and Captain Ito he wanted to hear every detail of what had happened.

Author's Note: The rest of this story will be posted within a couple days. I will say that posting multiple chapters certainly increases the number of reviews for a single story! Many thanks for the encouragement in PMs and reviews. It is appreciated!

Thanks for reading.


	4. Chapter 4

~ Left Behind ~

An Author's Note follows the story.

Word Count, Chapter 4: 4128

Word Count, total: 14,536

Disclaimer: 'Stargate Atlantis' and its characters are not mine. I would not have left them under the aegis of those whose interest lay elsewhere.

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

Once again Elizabeth found herself in a corner of the infirmary, waiting for answers. The scene before her was one of seeming chaos, the organized commotion one finds in ER centers. Beckett spoke with each doctor or nurse or technician working on the various patients before he finally approached her in the corner.

"How are they doing, Carson?"

The doctor smiled briefly. "We're still in luck. Mostly. The injuries to the rescue teams are fairly minor. They'll be released, with the exceptions of Weller and Martin. To hear them all tell it, they went up against a cross between ninja warriors and a windmill." He smiled again. "Mostly minor cuts and bruises," he dismissed, then sobered. "Things could have been very much worse. Lieutenant Weller has an arm injury that will require minor surgery. A little deeper or lower and it would have been major surgery, possibly permanent loss of some function. Sergeant Martin says he tripped over his own feet and that's how he broke his leg." The Scot shook his head. "Don't be fooled by the jokes. It's a way of coping; they're worried about the colonel."

"How is he?" Elizabeth slid her gaze to the single bed, set apart from the others, where several medical staff, plus machines and monitors blocked her view of the patient.

Beckett shook his head again. "I'm not certain what we're dealing with here; we're running tests now. These three," and he pointed to the 'drunks' still sitting on one gurney, "have the sunburn mark. They're experiencing loss of coordination, a little disorientation and minor tremors, but they've not been drugged. There's not much change in their brain chemistry and the symptoms are disappearing fast. The drug seems to enhance and prolong the effect of the device. It also, as I said before, makes the subject more susceptible." He switched his gaze to the single bed. "Colonel Sheppard is heavily drugged and he has seven marks on his neck. Whatever the purpose of the drug, whatever the purpose of the device, he's been subjected to seven times the treatment that Rodney, Teyla and Ronon experienced."

"How are they now?" Elizabeth saw the three teammates had opened the dividing curtain in order to observe the activity.

"They could probably be released, but they won't leave."

"Of course not," Elizabeth said evenly. "What can we do?"

"Wait. It will be hours, perhaps days. We're giving him fluids and something to normalize his blood chemistry. He has no other marks on him but there's tenderness to the left side of his jaw and his cheek." Beckett raised his brow and spoke tentatively, shaking his head lightly. "My guess is...he was slapped."

"Slapped?" Elizabeth asked in surprise.

"Rather vigorously," Beckett nodded, then he frowned. "His heart is under great strain and I couldn't even guess at what's going on in his brain. The neural implications are like nothing I've seen. So, we support him with fluids and let his own system handle it. All we can do is wait."

"Hey, Doc," Ronon shouted.

"I don't think waiting is Ronon's long suit," Elizabeth said.

They started toward the trio and were still some distance away when Rodney yelled, "How's Sheppard? What's g-going on?"

There it was again, Elizabeth noted, the proverbial pin-drop silence, as if everyone in Medical had frozen in order to listen.

"We have not been tol' anything," Teyla added.

"Do I need to remind all of ye that there are patients here who need peace and quiet?" Beckett's comment was met with stubbornness if not outright mutiny. He relented. "Colonel Sheppard is in serious but stable condition. He was exposed to the same conditions as ye three, only more severe. And just like all of ye, he'll need time. And quiet," he finished sternly.

"Why is he still asleep?" Rodney demanded.

"It's actually closer to coma, not sleep," Beckett clarified.

Rodney's mouth dropped open in shock and fear. He almost pleaded, "He'll be okay, won't he, C-Carson?"

"I think so," the doctor assured, "but we won't know for several hours. He's not out of the woods yet." He looked at the anxious faces. "He's strong and he's a fighter. We'll know more after we have some test results."

"When will he wake up?" Teyla inquired.

The Scot lightly shook his head. "He'll wake up when his body tells him it's time to wake up, and not before. The only thing we can do is give him time."

"Voodoo," Rodney mumbled.

Elizabeth squeezed Carson's arm and told him she'd check back later. There was nothing to do but wait.

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

The day passed and John Sheppard did not wake. Reading the latest update on the patients' health wasn't enough ~ Elizabeth wanted to see first-hand. A glance at her watch informed her it was long past time for day-duty personnel to have retired, yet there were still quite a few people in the corridors. She bumped into Evan Lorne just as she arrived at her destination.

"Elizabeth. Major. I'm glad ye're here." Carson Beckett welcomed them quietly into the infirmary. "I was just about to contact ye both. I've released Lieutenant Weller to quarters with a dire warning that I'll strap him to the bed if he doesn't follow medical instructions. He has two friends to stay with him and he's doing fine. Now, Sergeant Martin went through some very complicated surgery; Dr. Ames did a good job." As he spoke they walked toward the sergeant's bed. Martin was a bit groggy, but in good spirits. "Ye still have a long road of rehabilitation, son, but I see no reason ye won't be good as new."

"How's the colonel?" was Martin's only response.

"And that's the other bit of good news I wanted to tell ye." The doctor spoke while opening the privacy curtain.

Teyla looked up and smiled in greeting. Her hands lowered to her lap, where she held some Athosian beadwork. She sat tailor fashion in the middle of her bed. Rodney looked up briefly from his reclining position on top of his bed, but went back to scrolling data on his laptop. In a bed between them John Sheppard lay quiet and still. On the end of the colonel's bed were Ronon's boot heels. The big man's ankles were crossed, he was comfortably ensconced in a chair, his injured arm lay across his abdomen. He wore his gun in its holster. Elizabeth knew there were a dozen reasons Ronon shouldn't have his weapon in the infirmary, just as she knew no one would say a word.

"His latest test results are very encouraging," Beckett smiled. "His temperature and color are good, his breathing is not labored, his brain chemistry is normalizing, his BP is down. Better yet, his heart is in nearly normal rhythm and he is in normal sleep. I think we'll hear from the man himself sometime soon."

"So, he'll be okay," Sergeant Martin announced firmly.

Elizabeth took a couple steps closer to the sergeant's bed. "How do you feel, Sergeant?" she inquired gently.

The man widened his eyes and blinked several times. "A bit stupid, ma'am. I really did trip over my own feet." He shook his head. "These three ninja dudes came out of nowhere. Weird tan robes and covered faces. Looked like they walked out of the walls." Elizabeth noticed the three teammates glanced at one another. "PJ got zapped, a kind of electric hum, and he went down on one knee, shaking like somethin' awful. He practically threw the colonel at me, then turned and just grabbed onto the ninja and held on. Well, you know PJ, sir."

"Indeed I do," Lorne nodded in understanding.

"I suppose he didn't have much choice. We already knew the Wraith stunners didn't work."

Rodney looked up, curious, then went back to his laptop.

"I guess I wasn't expecting the colonel to weigh so much."

Rodney snorted his agreement but never looked away from the data on his computer screen.

"Anyway, I didn't exactly catch Colonel Sheppard and we went down in a tangle, ninja and PJ and then Nico got zapped and he just held on, too." Martin covered a yawn. "Adams got one of the zap-guns and it seemed pretty silly, firing what looks like a little kids' squirt gun, and there we were in a narrow hallway, no room to maneuver and not wanting to make any noise, and Nels came barging down the hall, stepping over everyone, and he just punched them in the nose. Took 'em out, one by one. No kiddin', sir. There's nothing like a big, angry Swede."

"Ninjas didn't have a chance," Lorne smiled knowingly.

"Yeah, we knew what to do the next time." Martin grinned, making a fist. "First time having a fight was an actual job, but it was still a mess to get everyone back to the Jumper. Not exactly FUBAR- pardon me, ma'am, but it sure wasn't textbook."

"Perhaps not textbook, but a success," Elizabeth declared.

"Thank you, ma'am." Sergeant Martin closed his eyes, then opened them wide to stay awake. "I don't know why they didn't just kill us. I mean, if all they wanted was the colonel..."

"That's enough for now," Carson Beckett intervened. "You need to get some rest, young man." He pulled the bed away and moved it to a quiet corner of the complex.

"I, too, wondered why they did not kill us." Teyla straightened her legs and leaned back on her hands. "If they wanted only to keep John, why allow us to escape? Why return us through the Gate? They have advanced technology. What is their goal?"

"They don't seem to be too aggressive," Elizabeth ventured. "The weapons are certainly limited in destructive ability."

"Ma'am, we don't know what they might have accomplished if they'd had more time," Lorne countered.

"They're not friendly. Leave it at that," Ronon added.

Rodney shook his head. "There's more to the story."

"What do you mean, Rodney?" Teyla sat upright in her bed.

"We went to the planet because the Database indicated there was some kind of Ancient facility. And we do know 'something' is still there, still providing some kind of security."

"Perhaps the world has a special shield," Teyla submitted.

"Not a shield, and not the whole planet. It's more a cloak or camouflage for the outpost. Once upon a time there could have been more security measures." Rodney closed his laptop and sat on the edge of his bed. "We don't know the original design of the facility since the Makeover Multitudes re-purposed it all."

"I don't understand, Rodney," Elizabeth said in confusion.

"We agree there was an Ancient complex," Rodney lectured, "and naturally some security; the MALP didn't read anything on the outside and the Wraith stunners didn't work on the inside. If Wraith arrived, the chances are they wouldn't find anything, and if they did, they'd be at a disadvantage within the wall." Rodney checked to make sure his audience was following. "The Ancients build their facility, operate it, probably never see a Wraith. And then they leave. Eons pass. One day humans show up and set up shop. They start their primitive little village. They explore. They find the 'invisible' Ancient structure. And start dismantling it."

"Why not just go inside?" Lorne questioned. "Move in."

"Because it's obvious no one had or has ever had the gene. They couldn't get in until they chipped away at the wall. Think. It's not a shield, just a camouflage. The structure itself is vulnerable. And they still need Sheppard's gene. Even now. All the doors we passed had damage, like from pry bars. Physical force was needed to accomplish what Sheppard can do with a thought."

"You're losing me, Doc," Lorne said earnestly.

At his listeners' confused looks, Rodney pushed on. "You've seen Jumper Two's video log. Near the Gate there was Ancient stuff everywhere ~ door, roof, bridge, whatever. We were able to use the Gate because I found crystals strung up like windchimes and I used them in the Jumper DHD." It was clear the thought still rankled, that so much Ancient tech had been destroyed unknowingly by looting. "That jungle-covered Ancient junkyard is part of an old, abandoned village made of bits and pieces the locals had taken away from the outer wall. Eventually the villagers chipped away until they breached the wall. That's why the camouflage is no longer perfect and a small part is visible. But what can they do inside an Ancient structure if they can't operate anything? Security, remember? No gene, so nothing works. Even doors won't open except by force. So they continue their dismantling process and they build their own city within the Lantean wall, using their own architecture to suit their needs and using the Ancient materiel as building blocks."

"Rodney, you're being very long-winded," Elizabeth patiently reminded him. "Try to come to the point."

Rodney opted for smugness. "Okay, try this. First, we were allowed to escape ~ they let us go ~ so we would return for Sheppard and that would give them the opportunity to acquire another test subject; the rescue teams were zapped with the 'squirt gun' but no one was worth keeping. They would have let everyone go, again, except Sheppard. Second, they didn't kill us because I don't think 'kill' is in their vocabulary, although the population decreased by three while the rescue Jumper was there."

"Rodney, what are you saying?" Elizabeth demanded.

"I've been looking at the data collected by the rescue Jumper and from the 'squirt gun' device; Zelenka's been studying it and has sent me his findings. We've all been thinking about it as a weapon, some kind of neural disrupter that makes the victim a 'drunk'." He paused for effect. "I think they're trying to reverse-engineer Sheppard's brain activity as a way of activating Ancient technology. The device collects data about the victim's neural pathways. They obviously have their own fairly advanced technology. Self-sufficiency invariably promotes advance- "

"What are you getting at, McKay?" Ronon grumbled.

Rodney frowned in exasperation. "The junkyard town wasn't built and abandoned in just a few years. Generations go by, humans naturally advance if there's no interference by the Wraith. Their science is advancing as they're dismantling the Lantean structure. Even without accessing the Ancient tech they understand that living within the camouflage bubble is advantageous. They build a new city based on Ancient plans, including water and energy use. There are no ZedPMs; they're taking power from a geothermal source." He stopped and looked inwardly. "If you think about it, they're very efficient. They take everything and make use of it. They have to, since there's no room to expand."

"Rodney!" Elizabeth had reached her limit.

Rodney started. "They're playing catch-up," he rushed to explain. "These people have probably never seen a Wraith and may have no real concept of cullings or even Ancients. They don't trade and may not know a Gate can take them to other worlds."

"I'm not sure how comfortable I am with the fact we destroyed their only way of leaving the planet," Elizabeth admitted.

"They're no worse off than they were when they didn't know a Jumper DHD could activate the Gate," Rodney countered. "Gate travel is not part of their culture. All that remains of historic memory is the need to stay within the protective confines of the camouflaged city. They don't need a DHD."

"Still..." Elizabeth wavered.

Teyla said slowly, "You mentioned three people had died."

"No way off the planet and limited space inside the wall." Rodney shrugged his shoulders. "Population control."

"Are you serious?" Lorne asked in disbelief. He re-stated for clarification, "They kill their own to maintain their numbers."

"They don't see it that way," Rodney explained. "Don't think Jackson's _Lottery_ , think _Star Trek's_ 'disintegration chamber'. It's just a fact of life that if your number's up, you walk into a room and don't come out. I could see it in the Jumper data." He pointed to the colonel. "I think they wanted Sheppard's gene in order to expand or operate something. The fact that we made a beeline up the hill and the wall let us in must have seemed like an answer because clearly they're already working on the problem."

"We could open a dialogue, let them know there are options," Elizabeth suggested. "We have knowledge to share."

"They don't share or trade," Rodney repeated. "They have nothing extra and they need nothing more than what they produce. I think their science is near our level and, like us, they're living in an Ancient space. The problem is they'd dismantled a large part of that space before their science developed to the point they knew what they had, and now they're trying to put Humpty Dumpty back together again. Also, they don't have Colonel Super Gene."

Ronon responded tersely, "I vote 'No'. They're better off than most worlds. Let it go."

"I think they'll probably develop their own version of ATA gene therapy now anyway. Besides," Rodney argued, "who was it who said we didn't have the right to interfere with other cultures, especially if they have a system that works, for whatever reason? Recall the religious zealots who believed- "

"McKay..."

Elizabeth gasped and looked down. No one even breathed in order to hear John Sheppard's next words.

"Keep 't down. Gotta headache."

"Carson, get over here!" Rodney yelled.

"Rodney..." The colonel grimaced and lapsed back into sleep.

Carson Beckett arrived in a rush. He checked the monitor and drip line and then aimed a penlight into his patient's eyes. A hand reached up to push away the light. "Aye, son, just sleep. Ye need it. It's not unexpected for him to be in and out of sleep a while yet." He stood straight and pocketed the light. "He'll do. He just needs time. And quiet, Rodney. Ye hear me? Quiet."

An unknown tension Elizabeth hadn't even recognized was suddenly gone. Out in the halls she heard people moving about. Elizabeth smiled inwardly, thinking they were probably finally all going to bed because the news that Colonel Sheppard had actually spoken was already making its way through the city.

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

"You're done, aren't you?" Rodney didn't wait for an answer before reaching over and grabbing the yogurt cup. Only Sheppard was still officially stuck in the infirmary, connected to a monitor, but they were all sitting around a makeshift dining table, mostly finished with their meals.

"Rodney," Teyla admonished gently, "John needs to eat his dinner. All of his dinner. Please put that back."

Rodney looked as if he might argue, but he replaced the cup on the tray. When Sheppard reached out for it, his hand began to shake violently. Teyla picked up a straw, placed it in the creamy mixture, and held the straw to the colonel's lips.

"Well, as I was saying," McKay continued as he resettled in his chair, "the 'squirt gun' allows them to record impulses in the brain. Add the drug's influence, which sort of slows things down, and get a 'susceptible' test subject to operate Tech while they monitor neurotransmitters. It's the beginning of Carson's gene research, although they most likely had little progress until now since no one on the planet has the gene." He watched his team leader struggle with tremors and he nervously took a sip from his own drink before continuing. "Once they saw how Ancient tech responded to you, they knew what they were looking for. We're not sure why you have multiple sunburn marks."

"Sheppard's stubborn." Ronon leaned back from the table. His arm was not in a sling, but he still kept his wrist in a protected position at his waist.

Rodney looked vague for a moment, then he frowned. "Well, I suppose if he resisted and was uncooperative in the suggestive state... The problem is, if they 'squirted' him too many times, he'd end up comatose." He observed Ronon's steady stare. "Oh."

"How are you feeling, John?" Teyla was gathering items to stack the food trays for removal.

"I'm good. Still have a headache."

Rodney snagged a couple untouched cookies from Sheppard's tray. "Even with your 'uncooperative' help they'll probably be able to make headway on gene therapy. They obviously knew the ATA gene is needed to access the Technology. I also think they have a way off the planet; I think there's another DHD."

"So you were wrong," Ronon grunted.

He couldn't talk with his mouth full, but Rodney glared as he chewed and swallowed. "I never said absolutely there was only the Jumper DHD," he argued. He turned away to address the others. "Like all the other pieces of the outpost, I think DHD components have probably been functioning as something for centuries. These people put everything to use." He leaned in to give weight to his explanation; Ronon pinched the remaining cookie from its position near Rodney's elbow. "And I don't think we were allowed to escape just to see if there were others like Sheppard," Rodney announced. He dusted the crumbs from his fingers and reached for the absent cookie.

"So you were wrong again," Ronon interpreted.

Rodney turned to refute the comment, saw the last bite of cookie popped into Ronon's mouth, and glared again. "I said 'just', as in 'there is more to the story'." He turned to Sheppard and Teyla. "I think they wanted to see if we could get off the planet. We arrived through the Gate, so could we leave? They waited until the Gate was active to keep you and get rid of us. And now that they know what a DHD looks like, they may be able to put theirs back together. Wherever it is. They appear to be very quick learners. They observe and then they mimic."

"Does that include slapping me around?" John glowered at Ronon, who grinned evilly then looked nonchalant.

"Probably," Rodney admitted, "and it's why they were much better fighters against the rescue teams than us. With us their only advantage was camouflage. If Ronon and Teyla had been in fighting form, we'd probably all have made it through the Gate."

"How many visitors have those guys ever seen?" John asked doubtfully. He reached up to scratch his chin and winced. "If there's no reason to trade, seems to me no one would visit. Not too many people travel just to explore."

"If a traveler from Planet Y went there and never returned, no one from Planet Y would use the address again," Rodney agreed. "Word gets around. The real question is: if generations go by and no one used the Gate, was it forgotten? Time passes. The society advances. They start to understand what the Ancients have left behind, what the Gates are. If someone does arrive, the locals would want to know how the Gate works. And if a traveler couldn't leave, he'd be stranded. And basically of no use to them."

It was McKay's intonation that caught John's attention. "Are you sayin' what I think you're sayin'?"

"A visitor of no value would be of no value."

"Why did they not simply ask us," Teyla wondered.

"Don't know and not gonna ask," John replied. He shifted in the chair and grimaced.

"They're not friendly. I said it before," Ronon seconded.

"Just once I'd like a mission to go as planned," Rodney lamented. "It would be nice if everything worked perfectly ~ new discoveries, nice people, and no monsters or ninjas."

"And some hot blonde?" John quirked an eyebrow. "One who thinks you can do no wrong?"

There was a light in Rodney's eyes as he considered some inner vision. He refocused. "You know, this all happened because the door opened for your show-off gene." It was an accusation.

"You're saying it's my fault?" John asked incredulously.

"Well, if we'd arrived, looked around, and just left, they'd be studying the Jumper DHD now to figure out how we made the Gate work. If we'd walked up to the wall and couldn't go any farther, I think they'd only follow us to see if we could leave, and that means they'd be studying the Jumper DHD now. But once the door opened for you, that set everything else in motion."

"That's an awful lot of 'ifs', buddy," John drawled.

"And _if_ we'd taken a Jumper, as I recommended..." Rodney challenged with a final comment in order to have the last word.

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

Elizabeth Weir quietly backed away from the privacy curtain. She had come to the infirmary to speak with Carson and personally to check on the injured. As she headed for the exit, she smiled; John Sheppard had certainly made it home. *~*

...

Author's Note: A reference is made to Shirley Jackson's story 'The Lottery'. If you are unfamiliar with it, you can find a summary online. Reference is also made to an episode of Star Trek in which two planets wage war with computers and if someone is 'calculated' to be a casualty, that person reports to a disintegration chamber in order to go from a theoretical value to an actual casualty of war.

This tale had a strange evolution. It began with the 'sidewise interpretation' of 'They also serve who only stand and wait' (Milton). My stories tend to be about the Team, together, in some situation (and then Rodney explains everything). I wanted to do a story about the Team (of course) by focusing on the people who do not go offworld, those who must wait in the city, even when something goes wrong. The natural focal point was Weir, the administrator. [To give her someone to talk to I made Lorne sit out this rescue.]

I had the teaser in mind and I knew where I was going with the story. The teaser was meant to make readers think the title referred to Sheppard, but it was also to refer to those who are not involved in the rescue, those who can only stay home and wait. And that includes the injured teammates.

I thought it would be better to see - not just hear - what happened in the teaser fight, otherwise the Team would have to give a play-by-play account of the action and that would be stilted. In fact, if I didn't write about what occurred on the planet, the Team would have to explain, explain, explain. The next thing I knew, the section taking place on the planet kept growing, longer and longer, more details, and then I had a two-part story that was half adventure, and half waiting! At one point I almost decided to make two completely different stories - an adventure, and then a story about the Team needing to be rescued offworld (for a reason easy to understand without details!) and ONLY taking place from Weir's view in Atlantis.

But I'd come so far (and so long) with this story, so I kept it. I hope it works. [And Rodney still has to explain everything (what would I do without David Hewlett?!).] For those readers who were expecting a rousing adventure from start to finish, maybe next time...

Thanks for reading.


End file.
